y   t 


Entered  according  to  an  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1866,  by 

JOHN   McLOUGHLIN.   PUBLISHER,   New   York, 

in  tba  Clerk's  Office  ot  the  District  Court  "(    the  I'tiited  SUtea  f<>r  the  Southern  District  of  New  York 


Htatrotyped  by  Vincent  Dili,  Xoi..  29  &  31  Iioeknua  Street,  New  York. 


THE  SAD  FATE  OF  POOR  ROBIN. 

THIS   is   the   ROBIN, 
With   breast  so  red, 

That   used  to   come  hopping, 
For  morsels   of   bread. 


p 


THE    SAD    FATE    OF   POOR    ROBIN. 

This    is  the  OAT,  with  lantern  jaws, 
That,  making*  a  spring-,   seized    hold  with 

her  claws 
Of   the  poor  little  Robin,  with  its   breast 

so  red, 
That    used    to   come    hopping    for  morsels 

of   bread. 


This    is   the   DOG,   of    the   mastiff    kind, 
Which  suddenly  creeping  up  slily  behind, 
Made   a   pounce   on   the   Cat    with    lantern 

jaws, 
That,    making  a  spring,   seized   hold   with 

her  claws 
Of   the  poor  little  Robin,   with  its  breast 

so   red, 
That    used   to   come    hopping    for  morsels 

of   bread. 


THE  SAD  FATE  OF  POOR  ROBIN. 

This  is  the  "WOODMAN,  from  labor  re- 
turning, 

With  his  axe  in  his  hand,  and  faggots 
for   burning ; 

Who  called  off  the  Dog  of  the  mastiff 
kind, 

Which  suddenly  creeping  up  slily  behind, 

Made  a  pounce   on  the   Cat  with   lantern 

jaws,     . 

i 

That,  making  a  spring,   seized  hold  with 

her  claws 
Of   the  poor  little  Robin,  with  its   breast 

so  red, 
That   used   to   come  hopping   for   morsels 

of   bread. 


*  ^^ 


THE  SAD  FATE  OF  POOR  ROBIN. 

This   is    the    MAIDEN,    with    beauty    and 

grace, 
Who  came  tripping  along  with  joy  in  her 

face, 
To   meet   the   poor   Woodman    from   labor 

returning, 
With  his  axe  in  his  hand,  and  faggots  for 

burning, 
Who  called  off  the  Dog  of  the  mastiff  kind, 
Which  suddenly  creeping  up  slily  behind, 
Made   a  pounce  on   the   Cat  with    lantern 

jaws, 
That,   making  a  spring,   seized  hold  with 

her  claws 
Of   the  poor*  little  Robin,  with  its  breast 

so  red, 
That  used  to  come  hopping  for  morsels  of 

bread. 


THE    SAD    FATE    OF    POOR    ROBIN. 

This   is   the   COT,   in   a  shady   nook, 

On  the  side  of  a  hill,  by  a  rippling  brook, 

The  home  of   the  Maiden  of   beauty  and 

grace, 
Who    tripped    along    gaily,    with    joy    in 

her    face, 
To  meet  the    poor   Woodman    from    labor 

returning, 
With    his    axe    in    his    hand,    and    some 

faggots   for   burning ; 
Who   called    off    the    Dog    of   the    mastiff 

kind, 
Which  suddenly  creeping  up  slily  behind, 
Made   a   pounce   on   the   Cat  with   lantern 

jaws, 
That,   making  a  spring,   seized  hold  with 

her  claws 
Of   the   poor   little  Robin,  with   its   breast 

so   red, 
That    used    to    come   hopping    for   morsels 

of   bread. 


10  THE  SAD  FATE  OF  POOR  ROBIN. 

This  is  the  ROOM  where  the  Maiden  slept, 
Through   the   window   of  which   the   poor 

Robin   crept, 
Of  the  Woodman's  cot,  in  a  shady  nook, 
On  the  side  of  a  hill,  by  a  rippling'  brook, 
The  home  of  the  Maiden  with  beauty  and 

grace, 
Who  tripped  along  gaily  with  joy  in  her 

face, 
To   meet   the   poor   Woodman    from   labor 

returning, 
With  his  axe  in  his  hand,  and  faggote  for 

burning, 
Who  called  off  the  Dog  of  the  mastiff  kind, 
Which  suddenly  creeping  up  slily  behind, 
Made   a   pounce    at    the   Cat   with    lantern 

jaws, 
That    making  a  spring,   seized    hold  with 

her  claws 
Of   the  poor  little  Robin,  with   its  breast 

so  red, 
That  used  to  come  hopping  for  morsels  of 

bread. 


/'XVtJX  A/</ 


THE  SAD  FATE  OF  POOR  ROBIN. 

My   tale  is   told.     But  what   be- 


came 


Of    Dickey?     You    will    ask. 
To  answer  this,  my  little  friends, 
Will  be  no  pleasing  task. 


When  to  her  Room 


The  Maiden  came, 
Poor  Dickey  there  she  saw, 
With  outstretched  wing, 

r 

The  little  thing 
Lay  dead  upon  the  floor. 


JOHN     MCLOUGHLIN, 


(Succe*HOr   to  JCtton    V    Co.,) 


3^      1 


MANUFACTURER  OF 

mmm,  ®un  kmmm,  feme  paper,  &c, 


24=  !Biaa3i5:iwc^.3\r 


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Stereotyped  by  Viucikt  Dill,  Noi.  39  mad  31  Beekman  Street,  New  York. 


